The Places We Called Home
by call me ponyboy
Summary: It's no longer just the camp that is in danger from Jason when he decided to stalk
1. The Boring first chapter

The Places We Called Home

I had never heard of Jason Voorhees in my small home town in Michigan. But the day that my mother, my two sisters, and I packed our belongings and moved to Vermont was the day that everything I knew changed. From the setting of my home, to physics itself.

The cool clear waters of Crystal Lake were glazed over with ice the very first time I saw it. The half-acre of land that was my new property cut into the forest, like a stage. The trees were the curtains and the lake was the backdrop. The home itself was tastefully subtle, a small log cabin with a visible chimney. I didn't like it. I could hear my sisters, Candice and Emma, twittering in the back seat of the Jeep and I could practically feel my mother beaming next to me in the front.

My skin took no time breaking out in goose bumps when I stepped out of the car, it was cold. Me and my sisters practically trampled each other trying to get into the house. We were used to cold, don't get me wrong, but it doesn't mean we have to like it. The house was more modern on the inside, but not by much. It looked straight out of the 80's.

Right on the inside was the kitchen with semi-modern appliances and rose-colored wall paper. Off of that was the dining room. If you turned the corner to the right, there was the living room and off of that was the only bathroom and three bedrooms. Mom and Candice got their own rooms while Emma and I had to share.

It was 10 degrees outside and even colder in my heart. I knew I was being a bitch to my family, and as soon as we moved everything from the moving van into the house, I stopped off to what was mine and Emma's room. There was no furniture in there yet, but it had a huge window that over looked the lake. It looked so much like home, it made my heart ache. Unknown to me, Emma had slipped in silently with a huge box of her stuff. Right as I was about to let out a deep sigh of frustration, Emma let the box slip from her hands. I jumped a good foot in the air and she laughed softly, walking over to me.

I was always a little jealous of Emma. She was the epitome of perfect in my mind, long blond hair, porcelain skin, and baby blue eyes. Right now, her hair was pulled into a pony tail at the nape of her neck, leaving her blunt bangs free. That showed of her already big eyes.

Her bow pink lips pulled into a smile as she talked to me, "Anne, baby, it's going to be okay. I promise. Look out at the lake," she then pointed a perfect finger to the lake beyond the window, "it's almost the same as home. You will learn to love it, or just pretend to for mom."

That night was the first time I had ever heard of Jason.

Sense Emma had talked to me I had tried to be more cheerful. It really helped when Candice made my favorite meal, spaghetti. Then we split up into our separate rooms. I don't know what Candice and my mom did, but Emma and I got to decorating.

We finished with that a lot quicker than we thought, and soon found ourselves sitting on my bed with our separate laptops. She opted towards working on her novel (she had an aspiration of being an author) while I went onto Google.

Obviously, I was still pissed about being here, so I went to researching this place. The first thing I saw surprised me, to say the absolute least.

**Mass Murder on Crystal Lake **

**Camp Crystal Lake Closed-Again**

**Police on Hunt for Murderer-No Leads**

I stared in shock at the multiple links, all saying the same think in different words. In a moment of sensibility, I decided to click on one to see if it was _this _Crystal Lake and not some lake in Arizona. Nope, it turned out it was the one I could just turn my head to look at. And I was tempted to do just that, but I was almost certain that if I did, there would be some 50 year old child molester with a butter knife ready to pry my eyes out of my nose.

Emma noticed my very sudden discomfort, "What's wrong doll-face?"

I didn't say a word as I turned my computer towards her, showing her the website and thus also showing a picture of one of the gruesome murders. She took about ten minutes to soak it all in before she turned her eyes towards me, shock clearly written across her face.

Wordlessly, we both decided we no longer felt safe in our room, and we both exited together and went into our mother's room. It was dark in the hall, and we held each other's hand as we practically ran to mom's room.

She accepted us into her bed, probably thinking that we went yet comfortable in our new house.

_**2 Months Later**_

School was over! It was so hard catching up because this school was so far ahead of my last one; I really had to bust my butt to pass. At that time, I had completely forgotten about those news reports that had scared me so much, but not easily. When finals week had started was when it was really pushed from my mind.

And I didn't remember it until the second week after school ending. I saw people, actual real people on the opposite shore of the lake.

They were teenagers, I saw that when I went out on our dock. They were all wearing the same shirt and it ran through my mind that maybe the camp across the lake was re-opening. Then, it once again hit me. I had a slight panic attack, okay, maybe a huge one. I was hyperventilating and unable to move as I kept looking at those kids, hoping, praying even, that the killer was gone for those kids sake. But then I started to really panic, because I had just realized I was in the same boat as them, I and my entire family was in serious danger.


	2. Seeing is Believing

The Places We Called Home

Chapter 2

That very next night was when the real horror reigned in my heart.

We were in the kitchen, my mom and I, and we were cleaning up after dinner, and we got in a bit of a tussle. It probably was because I still didn't like the house and was still constantly talking about going back to Michigan. She told me to just shut up and be grateful for what we have.

Now, at the time I was really PISSED, but now that I think about it, she was probably right. I wasn't thinking about that though as I stormed out the door in a huff, slamming the door behind me. I heard it open and shut again, much more quietly then I had just previously done. Then I heard light footsteps running up to my side. It was Candice; I could smell her vanilla perfume.

"I don't want to talk right now, okay?" I snapped at my younger sister, and I could see her stop for a moment as if she was hurt before she continued to walk with me, only now she was a little bit behind.

Before we knew it, we both had walked half way around the lake, and were in the private property of the Camp.

"Come on Anne, we could get in serious trouble for being here…" She wined, and I rolled my eyes. "Come on Anne," She said, repeating herself, "let's go home." She then tried to take my arm and pull me back in the way we had come.

I then bitched her out, saying that I didn't ask her to come along with me. "I was just making sure you were safe," she replied to me, making me feel bad. But she didn't say another word as she turned the other way and walked away from me.

This time when I continued walking, it was at a much slower pace. I heard some snickering behind me, and footsteps walking closer. I rolled my eyes and turned around to say something, thinking it was Candice trying to scare me into coming home with her, but the words died in my throat when I saw the _three _people behind me were much taller, broader, and all around bigger then my petite baby sister.

Maybe they hadn't noticed me, my brain thought franticly, growing into a panic. I mean, come on, I know I am not the best looking girl in the world, but when it is dark out and there are three boys walking towards one girl, your brain draws conclusions that aren't the best. But they had noticed me, and were starting to come to close for comfort.

"What's up, babe?" One of them said, while grazing my ass with his hand, trying to go behind me. I whipped around and punched him in the face, but sense I do not have a lot of muscle, it really didn't hurt him much at all.

"Whoa, watch out Ken, kitty's got claws!" Another one said, taking hold of my arm. I tried to yank it away but the weak muscles thing got in the way again.

"Oh shut up Collin, that is older than your mom," the third boy said, the only one who has yet to be named.

When words came back to me (finally), I really only said one thing that didn't make much of a difference.

"Let me go," I meant it to sound strong and forceful, but it came out in more of a whimper. They only laughed, while man one and two (Ken and Collin) each took one of my arms and tried to drag me into the woods, man three just followed behind. It was then that I remember watching a show that said the second you stopped struggling, you could kiss your ass good bye. So I wriggled and moved and tried to escape, but I just wasn't strong enough.

Before I knew it I was pinned against a tree and my pants were around my ankles. I suppose guy number three was designated to go first, while the other two held back my arms. My legs were left free, but in the position I was in, there was really no way that I could use them without extreme pain to me.

I wished with all my heart that I had listened to Candice and went back home, but I didn't, and now I was stuck here like this, pinned to a tree, about to be raped by three boys that could probably take me out with both hands tied behind their back.

Right before man three took me by force, he made this gurgling noise and I felt this slight cutting pain in my abdomen. I wondered for a minute if this was me being raped or if something weird had happened.

I figured that it was the second one, because he was lifted off the ground and had something flat and shinny sticking out of his stomach.

That is when I first saw _him. _The man behind the cut boy was simply huge. A good six foot five and towering, he flicked the boy off of his blade and I heard the sickening crunch of bone breaking when he hit the ground somewhere in the distance.

The other two boys let go of my arms to confront the man. As I collapsed to the ground, I got my first look at his face, or, sort of face. It was covered with a beaten up hockey mask with random holes in it.

One of the boys pulled out a knife from his shoe and was attempting to scare the huge bulk of a man with the tiny blade. This confused me, couldn't this guy see the huge…sword? Kitchen knife? Machete? Whatever it was, it was huge and a little pocket knife was not going to take him out.

That boy was gone in an instant; the huge man literally cut him in half, making blood and other stuff I didn't quite want to know about spilled on me. Ken was the only one left, and he ran for his life. That left me alone with this huge murderer.

Not that I wasn't grateful for what he did for me, but it was a little unconventional, and it left me to wonder if he did it for me or for the kicks of killing.

I stood and he watched, he blade at the ready. I only went to his chest; he was a good foot taller than me. I thought he was big before, but now that I am upright, he was huge, not fat, but huge all around.

I was going to thank him, but I saw him raise his weapon as if to use it on me, I ran.

I found myself on the Camp's expansive dock, on a dead end. I turned to look if he was coming after me. When I didn't see anything but the darkness, I took a moment to gather myself and my situation.

God, I feel like I have Stockholm syndrome, but I guess tonight was my lucky night to become the damsel in distress with no prince to come after me.

That's when I saw him, coming out of the shadows. Jesus, this was way too much like a horror movie, a very stereotypical horror movie too!

I backed up as much as I could, but I wobbled and almost fell into the cold lake. When I saw him step on the dock, I wrapped my arms around my waist, only to feel something warm and wet there.

I looked down to see what it was. I had been cut. So that was what the pain was. Maybe I should not have looked down, because when I looked up, he was right in front of me, ready to strike.

I then forgot I was so close to the water and took a step backwards into open air. Just as he was about to bring his weapon down on my head, I fell backwards into the lake, causing a huge splash. Water got in my nose and made me choke under water.

When I emerged, I saw him just standing there, looking down. He wasn't quite looking at me, but more at the water. He obviously wasn't paying attention to his grip and let his weapon fall. If I didn't move, its handle would have hit me in the head.

He backed up away from the water, as if to avoid the water that it had sprayed up.

I didn't waste any more time, I felt safe in the water and so I grabbed the weapon, by the blade (I got cut, needless to say) and swam.

I had always thought that I was a strong swimmer, and this lake wasn't that big, but I guess I wasn't as good as I thought I was, and about halfway to my dock, I thought I was going to drown.

Somehow, against all odds, I eventually pulled myself up on my dock. I laid there for a second, glad to be on dry land.

Somewhere along the way, I had gotten a better grip on the weapon by the handle, and now that I thought about it, I looked across the lake and wished it wasn't so dark out, it must have been well past midnight, but I wanted to know if he was still there, watching the water, or if he had gone off, killing more people. I hoped it was the first one.

Just then, the back door opened and Emma's head popped out.

"Anne! What the hell are you doing?" Wow, I thought, did Emma just swear?

But she ran down to me, taking me by the wrist in an attempt to pull me up. It was then she noticed I was slightly sliced and holding the weapon.

"Oh my lord, Anne, what did you do?" Yeah, she immediately thought that it was my entire fault that I was cut in two places. Okay, one of them was my fault but that is not the point.

After she got the idea that something happened that wasn't entirely my fault, she nearly dragged me inside to clean me up. Apparently, mom was pissed at me too and went to bed early.

Emma and Candice doted on me, making sure I was fine, and Candice thought it was all her fault because she left me all alone.

Emma was such a mom about it she just had to drag the whole story out of me.

It was so much harder to talk about then I thought it would be. But at the end of the story, I turned to Emma and said in a very distinctive voice that meant I was being completely serious.

"I think I saw the serial killer." Emma freaked out long before that and that had only made it worse, but Candice had no idea what we were talking about, so it was up to me to fill her in. Then she freaked. Isn't it a little funny that I was the one that was almost raped and killed yet it was my sisters that were freaking out?

Little did we know at the time, but we were being watched, no one goes in his home without paying for it.


	3. Oh my

The Places We Called Home

**Well, no one is reviewing, but that doesn't really matter, it is just a plot bunny in my head that I couldn't get out, so whatever. This is just going to be a real quick story to get it out of my head. Don't worry; it will probably be deleted as soon as it is done so it doesn't stuff up your Friday the 13****th**** fandom much longer.**

Chapter 3

We took care of the machete (Emma confirmed what it was), we hid it in Candice's closet on the top shelve, and Emma checked every day to make sure it was there. We all agreed that we would keep our mother in the dark about this, and it was easier than I thought it would be. The morning after the incident (all the girls stayed in the same room, getting no sleep out of fear) I made up with mom and cooked her pancakes for breakfast.

All day, I couldn't keep my eyes off of the lake or the Camp across the lake, or the lake itself, but when the stuff of the day is all done, I decided to finally work on my piano. The past few months have been so hectic; I just never got a chance to play. Yesterday has caused the need for me just to relax and forget about my near death experience.

I sat down at it and started playing Beethoven's fifth symphony. I was alone at home, much to my chagrin. Candice was at her friend's house and Emma and Mom went out on dates, which is good for both of them, but I just wish I wasn't here by myself.

I was so engrossed in my music that I failed to hear the back door open behind me.

Around part two of the long work, I messed up, like I always do around that part. I turned the page back to the beginning, feeling like I couldn't just keep going on with it after I had messed up.

It was then that I heard breathing behind me, and I turned to look at what horrified me yesterday at the camp was in my own living room.

I felt he was huge yesterday, but he seemed even bigger when his head was literally touching the ceiling. I stood up quickly, but he was quicker. I thought that right then, my life was going to be over, but instead, he grabbed my arm in a painful way and dragged me back to the piano. When he made sure I sat back down, he pointed to the piece I was playing before, and I got the hint.

When I started to replay it, he just stood there, looking at my fingers press down each key in uncertainty.

While I played, and while he stood there in complete silence, I started to grow a little comfortable knowing that I haven't been killed yet, and started to play in more confidence.

"So," I said, trying to make conversation, "what's your name? Mine is Anne." Nothing. No response at all, he didn't even blink, he just stood there and breathed. I was starting to think that he couldn't talk, but maybe he just didn't have anything to say. Even when I messed up at the beginning of part two, he didn't say anything. But when it was the final page, I thought for sure that after I was done, my life would be as well.

But then I finished, and nothing happened. I sat there, looking at him out of my peripheral vision, and he just stood there. I couldn't tell what he was looking at sense both his eyes were covered in shadows from the mask.

I decided to test the waters and slowly stand up. He must not have been looking at me because when I did this, his head snapped to look right at me. This action made his eyes visible to me again.

"Just stay here for a second, okay?" I walked into Emma's and my room, and went through Emma's stuff, trying to find something. When I found what I was looking for, I turned around to find him in the room with me. I did a little jump, but tried to hide it.

His huge frame filled the doorway, preventing me from leaving the room unless it is by the window or pushing him out of the way, which I doubted I could do.

Bring out what I had stolen from Emma, a baby name book (Emma gets a little too involved with the Sims, even so much as planning their names in advance and highlighting them), I was going to find out his name if it was the last thing I do, and noticing what he had done at the camp and assuming he is the serial killer I found out about, then it would be.

I started off with all the marked sections where Emma has highlighted, and I was expecting it to take forever, but in reality, it only took about a half hour before we came across it. His name is Jason, and he made sure I knew it when he first saw it on one of the many marked pages.

And after that, a quick look online and I found his last name too, Voorhees. Jason Voorhees, the serial killer, is in my house. Why aren't I panicking?

---

We sat there in silence for quite some time, well, more I just sat there, he walked around the small room, as if looking for something.

Then I remembered, he probably was looking for that darn machete that was in Candice's closet. I was tempted to give it to him to make him go away, but then again, I would feel like I was condoning killing.

So, instead, I sat there, looking at him.

There was nothing really attractive about him at all. That horrid hockey mask must be hiding an even worse face and his huge, bulky body seemed to be made even bigger with the clothes he wore. The only visible part of his skin was the back of his head and his neck, and it was this strange color between blue and grey. I know I was being a huge snob on the inside, but I mean, come on, honestly, wouldn't you be too?

Then I heard the front door open and close, followed with the quick, clicking heals of Emma. I don't know why I was relieved when I realized it was her and not mother, I just was, I think it was because this would be so much easier to explain to my older sister then to my mom.

But Jason didn't care who it was, he stormed out of the room, and I could hear Emma scream, hell, I think the campers across the lake could hear her scream. I ran out of the room myself to make sure he wasn't hurting her. He wasn't, but she was in a state of terror, nearly crying in the back corner.

"Um, well, this is awkward…" I said, not really knowing how to handle the situation at hand. Emma then tried to go over to me and grab my arm, but she wasn't allowed to by Jason. As soon as she tried to, Jason took my other arm in one of his big hands and pulled me away from her grip.

Emma's tear-stained face was then drawn into confusion, she was probably wondering the same thing I was, which is why the hell did he do that.

Once again, the door opened and in walked my mother. And once again, a family member of mine screamed at the sight of Jason, only this time, she fainted. Emma and I rushed over to her, or at least, I tried. Jason pulled me back once more, making sure I was right by his side. Jason surprised me then when he kept on dragging me, out the back door. I tried to struggle and get back inside, but he was much stronger than me.

What have I gotten myself into?

I blame Beethoven.


	4. Prison

The Places We Called Home

Chapter 4

His grip was strong and solid on my upper arm as he made sure that I was ahead of him at all times, and I knew it was going to bruise later. He made me walk on even when I had tripped over a root or stubbed my bare foot on a rock. Some kidnapper he is.

I seriously hate walking, and being forced to make it even worse, and finally, I snapped.

"Jason Voorhees, you tell me where we are going right now, or as God as my witness, I will not move a step farther!" And I just stopped.

Now, he could have very easily dragged me along, but instead, he came over to me, way too close in my opinion, and scooped me up bridal style. This isn't good, a murderer and now kidnapper carrying me to where ever he was taking me. There was absolutely no chance of escape now; he had me in the palm of his hands, quite literally, and at his mercy. I want to go home.

There was really nothing I could do now, so instead I just laid there in a pout, and crossed my arms. He really doesn't smell as bad as I thought he would, kind of a husky, deep…I am cutting that thought off right there, and pretend I just didn't think that.

Those thoughts kept me preoccupied long enough that I didn't even notice when he had stopped walking until he dropped me on the ground and stepped over me. I glared at his retreating back, watching it as the darkness made him disappear. I wanted nothing more right then than to just sit on the ground and wait for morning to come, but Jason just wouldn't let me do that, that son of a bitch. He came back when he realized I was not following him, and he lifted me up off the ground in once again bridal style and carried me to what looked to be a tiny house.

Then he set me down on my feet and opened the door. I knew there was no way I would be able to run, my legs were to tired and I had just about given up, so I walked into the house expecting him to come in after me. But instead, I heard no footsteps and the door shutting behind me almost instantly.

Pure shock radiated through my body when I realized that I was just being left here, and then the tears came. I was madness itself when I ran around the place, trying to find a way out. I found two windows, but something was on the other side of them that I couldn't break, and I ended up cutting one of my hands in trying to do so. Then I tried the door again, just in case it decided to move for me this time. It didn't, and so I pounded and pounded on it until I just collapsed to the ground with my back against the door, and I cried my heart out.

---

The next day, I woke up very early, if the milky grey light filtering through the broken window said anything, and with a kink in my neck. For a few blissful seconds, I didn't know where I was, but when I did, this rock solid sadness was in the pit of my stomach, Jason had let me live, but at what cost? I was now his prisoner, and Lord only knows what he does with his prisoners.

Then I actually looked around the room. It was relatively empty and I am assuming what was in there was made a mess by me, but when I saw the bed on the other side of the room, my heart sang. At least it was some place comfortable to sit. And it on it I did. For hours, I did nothing else, what else could I do?

I started to hum to myself, and humming turned to singing. I knew I didn't have that good of a voice, it was average at best and I really didn't care, but it was just something for me to do right then.

It was a song that my mother used to sing to us girls when we were really little and thought that there was a monster under the bed, it always put us to sleep. I think it is called The Rose. Anyway, the point of that little story was that I should really stop doing anything that has to do with music because every time I do, Jason somehow manages to slip into the room without me noticing and just stands there.

I was in the middle of the third verse when I saw him straight across from me, I fell of the bed. He didn't say a word as he tossed a sack to where I was sitting on the bed moments before, and started to walk out of the cabin.

Just before he shut the door, I regained thought and scrambled to it, attempting to keep it open. I thank God that I got there in time.

I put my hand in the door, and winced when it attempted to shut on me, but that also got Jason's attention. He re-opened the door just enough so he could look at me but not enough for me to slip through.

"Jason, please, I just want to go home," I said in a begging tone, pleading for him to let me just go. He did not comply with my wishes and shut the door. I heard a clicking on the other side and I knew I was being locked in again.

I then looked to the sack that he had thrown on the bed, half expecting there to be a dead body inside. Instead, there were big, fat, red apples. For a split second, I thought Jason might really have once been human, he knew that I needed to eat, but that was no matter right now, he is still keeping me here against my will and that is not a very human thing to do. So, I sat and took a bit of apple

This really isn't the right time to be thinking this, but these apples are damn good.


	5. Mom finds out

The Places We Called Home

Chapter 5

It continued like that for the next few days, Jason bring me food and drink twice a day, and I would beg for him to let me go. Every time I would do that, he got a look in his eyes that said "No."

I had concluded by the second day of my imprisonment, as I had come to think of it, Jason did not know how to talk. Not a single word was uttered from him ever, no matter how much I said to him. So I spent my days just really wondering what the hell was he going to do with me and basically just sitting there. Then in the morning of my forth day, a miracle happened, there was no click of a lock when Jason left me with food.

For a couple minutes I thought it was my ears playing tricks on me, and finally I got the courage to just try the door, I mean, what could it hurt? My heart was nearly in my ears though, and my head was swarming with the different possibilities about what could be on the other side of the door, starting with Jason with a lead pipe ready to beat my brains out to a bear. But in the second that I actually felt the door open under my finger tips, and saw nothing but trees on the other side of it, I was on cloud nine.

Though threw my happy mind, I still was on the lookout for Jason as I ran the perimeter of the lake to my house. It was early still, around eight, and if I had been keeping track correctly in my head, then it must be Saturday, meaning the house would be quite and everyone would be asleep. The front door was unlocked, as it normally was, so I let myself in. Contrary to what I thought while walking up the drive, Candice was awake and making breakfast.

There was absolutely no way of getting past her unnoticed, so I decided to just stand there until she turned around to look at what was causing the door to open and close. When she saw it was me, she dropped the plate of bacon she had just finished frying and ran over to give me a huge hug. I know this really wasn't the right moment to be thinking about it, but I couldn't help but feel that all that bacon had gone to waste.

That meaningless piece of information was put aside when Candice started to talk, "Anne, it's all my fault! I shouldn't have left you that night then you wouldn't have been kidnapped and none of this would have ever happened! Mom went into a frenzy, called the police and everything, but you know about the missing persons report thing, so we had to wait a whole day to get someone to do something! Maybe I should wake Mom and have her call them to say you made it home safe? Yeah, I should, I'm going to go do that right now!" I swear she said that all in one breath, which is quite impressive if you think about it.

While my mom was calling the police, Emma woke up. When she saw me, being the only one that actually saw Jason take me away, she nearly forced me to give her the whole story. But luckily, Mom stopped her, saying that I had to tell the story to the police anyway when they showed up that Emma could just wait her turn. My mother didn't fool me though; I could see her wanting me to spill the beans right then and there as well.

To their relief, they didn't have to wait long. Apparently, in this small town, there really isn't a lot of crime that happens outside Crystal Lake, so they try to hurry there as soon as they can. I fully expected them not to believe me when I told them the story, which I did without reservation. But the surprise was that they actually listened to me and believed what I said, taking notes and everything. They were disappointed when I couldn't give them the location of the cabin, but I really just couldn't remember.

When they finally left, it was quarter past noon, and we were all starving, so Mom decided to treat us to a lunch out. I guess I should have enjoyed it, but I kept thinking I saw Jason out of the corner of my eye. He was never there of course, but that didn't seem to make it go away. Even when we were sitting in the nice restaurant (I had changed and showered before we left) I thought the waiter, the man in the other table, and the hostess was him.

But when we did get home, I had no sign of Jason but I was still pretty nervous he would pop out of nowhere and scare the living shit out of me.

Maybe, just maybe, my mind said, he is not going to come after you, maybe your bout of Stockholm Syndrome is over.

All thoughts of Jason were pushed from my mind when we entered our house, only to find it trashed. Everything that was supposed to be on the shelves or on in the cupboards was on the floor and all the furniture was flipped over. Not a single piece of floor was clean enough to step on.

"Who was here?" Mom said, as if one of us was going to have the answers.

"It was him," I stated looking at the mess on the floor.

I saw Candice roll her eyes "Thank you so much Anne, we really couldn't have figured that out for ourselves," she said in a very condescending and sarcastic way.

"Well, Mom just asked," I threw back at her, pointing to Mom who had gone on to clean the floor

We would have gone on longer, but then our mother gave us this look, the look that said 'You better start helping me or I am going to flip.'

So, that is what we did. We started in the kitchen, but everything back into the cupboards and washed up all the food that made its way from the refrigerator to the floor. Many dishes and glasses were broken, so we had to be careful about where we put our hands and feet. But that is not where the strange thing happens, in the living room, now that is where the bizarre thing happens. Every single thing that had my face on it was gone, and that was quite scary.

"Well, Anne," Candice said after we had all made that realization, "looks like you have yourself a persistent little stalker."

Oh joy, every girls dream.

But it was just then that a look dawned on Emma's face, like she just realized something we all didn't. And while Mom and I argued on whether to call the police or not (she said we should, I said if it was really him, there would be nothing that they could do) she turned to Candice and told her to go look inside her closet. Candice then got the same look on her face.

I knew what they were checking for, but it didn't fully register in my head the importance of that, not until Candice came back, shaking her head and mouthing 'No.'

"What was supposed to be in the closet?" Mom asked her, overhearing the brief conversation and Candice saying no.

"The machete," Candice said in a huff, as if Mom should know what she was talking about. Candice's face the moment she realized she just told Mom about the weapon, it was priceless.

"What machete?" Mom asked in a dangerous tone, the one that made it impossible for us to get out of it, so I stepped up to the plate.

"The machete I stole from Jason," I said very calmly, but inside I was frightened, my mom gets scary when she is mad.

"Anne, that guy could have loped of your head with his pinky finger and you stole a freaking machete from him?"

"Well, I wasn't really thinking about that when I was trying not to get killed," I responded. She dropped the conversation for a brief moment before she got this shining look in her eyes.

"So does this mean he is going to leave you alone?" It was then I realized that that glimmer was hope, when all life has given her was motherly instincts and now, nothing has prepared her for this. One of her daughters is being stalked by someone that the police can't find and there is absolutely nothing she could do, she felt hopeless up to this moment, I guess.

"Mom, I hate to say this, but if all the pictures of Anne being gone are any indication, he is not done messing with her," Emma spoke up, and the hope vanished from my mother's face.

I got seriously mad then, it was one thing to be stalking me, but to make my family's life miserable was another, and I was not going to stand for it. I stomped to the front door and was almost gone before anyone spoke to me.

"Anne, where are you going?" I couldn't really tell who said this, so I just looked to the general crowd and stated rather simply,

"I am going to go find him," Not one of them seemed to like this answer and all at once tried to get me to stay home.

"Anne, it's not safe," Mom said.

"At least take one of us with you," Emma reasoned

"Going to go find your stalker, really smart there Anne," Candice shouted.

I really just wanted to go, so I grabbed Emma and walked out of the house.

"Anne, are we going to die?" Emma asked me right after we started our walked across the lake (we figured the best place to start was at the cabin, and we need to find it fast).

"I don't know, I don't think so, but I have been wrong before."

There was still plenty of light, but light doesn't stop Jason like it stops the boogie man.


	6. Hate

The Places We Called Home

Chapter 6

We were all the way down the drive way before we realized _driving_ there would make the mile go by a lot quicker. So, after my 'dramatic' exit, I had to walk back inside and get the keys to the Jeep, and that kind of takes away from the overall affect. I was in no way stable at the moment to be driving so Emma took over the wheel, even though she hasn't driven since her initial test. Her driving was mediocre at best, and at one point we almost crashed into a tree. I was really wondering if I was safer in the car with Emma driving or out walking with Jason the masked serial killer stalking me.

What should have been only about a three minute drive turned into a fifteen minute one, but it wasn't all Emma's fault, we went the wrong way at least twice. But when we did get to the camp, we realized that we could just go walking around in there, it was owned and we could get in serious trouble for being on private property. This isn't at night when I was here last, where the cloak of darkness covered us, it was broad daylight and we could be easily seen.

Deciding that we had come all this way for a reason, we walked onto the Camp's grounds in confidence. In the first few minutes of walking around, and when we saw no one, we grew more confident.

Figuring that we were not going to find the cabin near the main part of the camp, we ventured into the woods. First trying one side of the lake, going deep into the woods, and ended on the other, but there was nothing.

We did this again but we saw nothing, and we decided to do it one more time. Lady luck shown upon us this time, for we found a lone cabin deep in the woods.

I knew it was his the moment Emma spotted it and we ran towards it, feeling like we had just won the jackpot. Now that I think about it, most people wouldn't be that excited about finding their stalkers house. For once, I was not proud of something that I was unique for.

Hoping and praying that Jason would be in there so I could just lay down the law to him, I nearly broke down the door opening it, even thought it was unlocked. But when I saw what was on the inside, which was vastly different from when I was here last time, I wanted to run right back out again. Every picture of me was up on the walls, and how he got them to stick there without tape I don't want to know, and the bed was gone, replaced with a baby grand piano.

"Oh come on!" I shouted, gesturing towards the piano, "How could he even get that through the door! This man is seriously defying the laws of physics in just one room!" Emma was looking at me as if I had grown to heads. This was the first time she had ever been to this place, so this was her first impression. Great first impression.

I wanted to take all the pictures down, but Emma dragged me outside, saying that we needed to find Jason, not worry about his room.

We walked around aimlessly, hoping that we would just run into him. We didn't make a plan for if we didn't find him in the cabin, and we did this for literally hours. Of course we are not super humans, so we had to take a moment every now and again to just sit and rest.

During one of these periods, when it was just about 5 according to Emma's cell phone, I heard a growl behind me that sounded distinctively like a wolf.

"Um, Emma, did you hear that?" I asked, wondering if I was going crazy. I was close enough to the edge anyway, hearing this would just make it all the better.

"Don't worry Anne, there are no wolfs in Vermont."

That briefly reassured me until I heard it again. Looking over my shoulder to see what it was if it wasn't a wolf, I was unpleasantly surprised to see that my perfect sister was wrong. Off in the distance, almost covered my trees, there were four or five of them, and thank God that they hadn't noticed us yet. Making sure not to make any sudden movements, I stood up nice and slowly. But Emma, bless her soul, thought I was seeing Jason and stood up very quickly. I saw the wolves turn in our direction, and I knew that Jason was no longer our problem, we were going to die by these wolves.

When they ran towards us at an alarming pace, I heard myself scream in a very un-lady like way, and I also heard Emma having almost the exact same reaction with almost the same tone.

But before they could reach us, and arm reached out from behind me to pull me back. Although I should have known Jason would be there, I was surprised to see him step in front of me. Quickly, I grabbed Emma and pulled her behind him with me. For this second, Jason was my knight in shining armor.

I can't exactly tell the story of how the wolves were picked off easily, since I did not see what had happened. Jason's broad back and shoulders blocked the view, but I did hear the whimpers and cries of the dogs. If they hadn't just been after me for the kill, I would have felt incredibly bad.

When the axe that Jason had stopped flying (I briefly wondered where the machete went), I wished that he didn't move out of the way so I didn't see the gruesome scene that was previously hidden by his body.

As for Jason, he looked at me only for a moment before walking off, and Emma would not stand for that.

Jason was surprised when she ran forward and grabbed his arm before I could stop her, and she spoke in a very demanding way to him, which I didn't think was the smartest thing in the world.

"Jason, Anne came here to say something to you and we will be damned if we let you slip right through our fingers!" Jason looked down, literally, on her, and he didn't seem happy.

That assumption that I had about him not being happy was confirmed when he lifted her up by the neck, choking her. For a split second, I sat there and wondered what the hell was going on, but only for one second, and then I sprang into action.

There wasn't much I could do, but I tried to grab the arm that he was holding her with, trying to get him to put her down. He wasn't listening to me, and I was growing frantic, searching for some way to make him put her down. I screamed and I begged, but deep inside I knew it was hopeless and I saw her going blue from lack of oxygen. Then, to my horror, Jason took up the axe and flipped it in his hand, making the blunt side face my sister. This only made me scream at him and threaten him to put her down, but nothing worked. I wasn't shocked when he brought down the axe on her head, killing her instantly, blunt force trauma to the head, but I was miserable and scared to see a family member being killed. He dropped her as if she was a piece of meat, and my perfect sister fell to the ground, lifeless.

'Why?' was all I could think as I dropped down beside her and cried, hoping the more I cried, the bigger the probability that she would come back was. Jason, on the other hand, just stood there, casting a vast shadow on the ground where my sister and I were. I turned to him then, extreme hate boiling inside of me.

"I thought you might have been human at one point," I seethed out through clenched teeth, "but now I know you are nothing but a monster!" Screw him being my knight in shining armor. He walked over to me in a calm manner while holding the bloodied axe away from him. When he reached where I stood, he raised his hand that was not holding the bladed weapon and brought it down on my face. There was only pain for a brief second before my world turned black.


	7. Obsession

The Places We Called Home

Chapter 7

I slowly woke up, opening my eyes one at a time. The sun shone through a window where ever I was and made my head hurt, so I shut them again, only to open them a few seconds later after curiosity took me over. I wished I hadn't opened them ever again when I saw I was back in the cabin, facing the one almost boarded up window that I had broken the first time I was here.

I knew I was not here alone, but when I sat up to see if Jason was really in the room with me, I felt like there was something dried and cracking on my face, and when I raised my hand to check what was there, and on the left side of my face, there was dried blood. I must have fallen on Emma after Jason struck me, and the thought of my dead sister's blood being on me made me want to puke and cry at the same time.

Standing in one quick motion, I spun so fast that when I faced the masked man on the other side of the room, I felt like the room was tipping and that there were two of him. I wanted to kill him, I want him to die. I could feel my face heating up in anger before I nearly ran over to where he was. Jason just stood there the whole time, just watching me storm over to him. I knew this because as I got closer, his head dipped down because I was so much shorter than him.

But when I got over to him, all my bravery left me, and I broke down and cried. I fell against his chest, and any other guy would have put his arms around me in a comforting manner, but not Jason. As my legs gave out from under me and I started to slip down his torso and his left leg. I was all out bawling when my head rested on the toe of his black boot. I was crying so hard that I was starting to hurt, and when I was done, I just laid there for a few seconds, trying to get my breathing back to normal. Realizing how pathetic I looked, at Jason's feet, crying my heart out, I must have looked like a mess.

Standing, I realized that I should have been grateful to him for letting me just cry, but it was his fault anyway. Looking anywhere in the room except at him, I noticed just how many pictures of me he had, and I was getting unnerved. I looked at each one individually, and they each held a memory, and most of them had Emma in the memory. None of them was the creepy snapshot from the bushes when I didn't know he was there, I remembered when each of these were taken.

I didn't realize it, but I my line of sight was soon going to be invaded by the silently walking man that had used that ability to walk right up next to me without me knowing. I yelped and jumped a little when I did notice the towering figure to close to me for comfort, but just as I was about to calm my heart down, I saw him try to reach for my arm. Every time before now when he had done this, something I didn't like had happened. I pulled away from him and backed up quickly against the wall. I saw him come after me and I snapped.

"Why are you so obsessed with me?!" I shouted at him, flailing my arms when he reached out towards me with one of his hands. He only stopped for a second but this didn't seem to faze him; he grabbed my arm no matter how much I thrashed around and forcefully dragged me over to the piano. I didn't want him anywhere me, and when he pushed the back of my head so that my nose was touching the music paper in front of me, I figured the only way to do that was just to do what he wanted. So I started to play.

I purposely played horribly so that he wouldn't make me play anymore, and I saw him out of the corner of my eye. He was just standing there, not making any attempt to make me do better. Realizing playing this way wasn't going to get me anywhere, I started to actually play what was written on the music.

The music didn't keep my mind from wondering, and I was pulled into thinking about Emma. How when we were kids, we would hide under her bed when it was thundering out, or when we got Ms. Ham (who was her pet turtle for a number of years) the day we brought her home, she ran under the refrigerator and there was no way to get it out. These thoughts made me tear up again and the large tears would fall onto the piano.

My fingers worked across the keys, and my vision blurred to the point where I could almost not see where the black notes were on the page. The more I thought about my sister, the harder the tears came. Just trying to think of something, anything, other than Emma, I turned my mind to Jason. That wasn't much better. What was his deal anyway? Why me? Why was it me that he had to become obsessed with?

I knew this part of the music well, I studied it in music class, and so while I was playing it by heart, I quickly turned to look at him. It seemed that Jason hasn't moved since he forced me to play for him. In fact, he seemed almost in a trance, he was lightly swaying with the music and his eyes were unfocused. To test in he really was in a 'trance' I took my hands completely off the keys for a moment. He didn't move, but he did stop swaying. Then it dawned on me.

It wasn't me who he was obsessed with me. He was obsessed with the music.


	8. Tellings of Goodbyes

The Places We Called Home

Chapter 8

Don't quite know how I wound up on the dock, but I do remember after Jason didn't look at me when I stood up, I slowly walked out and closed the door behind me. I didn't hear it open after I left, and I walked towards the lake, knowing my way home from there. Why I went to the dock and just stood there was beyond me. It all made sense now, why when we had first met, he was all ready to kill me and now he kidnaps me every chance he gets. And why he had put a piano in his cabin, which still doesn't make sense on how he got it in there.

When I heard footsteps on the dock behind me, I thought it was Jason and didn't bother to turn around to see, but when I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder and not one forcing me to stand up and come with him, I looked to see who it was. An eerily familiar face looked down on me with a small smile.

Ken, the only one that made it out alive from my almost raping, stood next to me on the dock, and he recognized me. I was in no mood to talk to someone that had aided my meeting Jason. I guess he could see my glacial stare and removed his hand, but he sat next me, I let out a sigh of contempt. I was hoping he would get up, but he stayed next to me, so I settled for scooting away.

"Look, I know the last time we met," I rolled my eyes, trying to make it perfectly clear that I didn't want to talk to him, but he continued on anyway, "we didn't get off to the best start…at all." I heard a stick break behind me, and I swirled around, fearing it was Jason. Ken gave me a weird look before he continued. "I understand why you don't want me near you, but it wasn't my idea, and we were drunk and horny and you were the only girl around…"

He stopped when I got up, wanting to just get away from this camp as soon as possible. But when he stood up and grabbed my hard, I pulled away so hard that I almost fell of the dock into the lake.

"All I want to do is say I'm sorry, and you weren't the only one who had a fright, I mean, I lost two of my best friends…wait…how did you get out alive?" His sudden long and rambling apology that I really didn't want to hear was cut off by that random question. Didn't he know that there were more serious matters then my almost raping? Jason could have woken from his trance by now and on the search for me again.

Only then did I notice where the sun was in the sky, and it was almost setting, making it somewhere around eight or nine. Was it really only this morning that I had gotten away from Jason's cabin? So much had happened since then that it is mindboggling to think about.

"Hello? Are you there?" Ken was waving a hand in my face, noticing my spaced off look.

"Oh…um…I…it's a long story," I said, not quite giving him a full answer before walking off. I knew I acted liked a scared kicked puppy while I walked home, or more so, halfway, before I remembered the car. The Jeep was still parked just outside the camps premises. Almost directly after that, I remembered that Emma had driven us there and the keys were on her. God only knows where her body is now. Then it dawned on me that I had to tell mom and Candice what had happened, and Lord, I barley wanted to think about it, let alone say it out loud.

I had stayed in one spot for a while, not moving, while I was having a little tantrum over what I had to do, until I heard another twig snap. I realized that I was still being stalked by Jason, and that I didn't have the luxury right now to just sit around and think, so I kept walking.

All too soon, I reached the front door of my house, just as it was getting dark. I was shivering, but it wasn't cold outside. I was scared, I didn't want to be the one to break the news to my family, and I really just wanted to pack my bags and go. And at this point, I really didn't care where.

I placed my hand on the doorknob and thought to a time not that long ago where I was trying to make small talk with Jason in my living room. I sighed deeply, and then I turned the knob and walked in, all the while, dread was filling my stomach.

I saw my mother right away, sitting at the kitchen table with a mug in her hand. She drank deeply before she noticed me, and she must have known something was wrong when she saw my face, or when she saw that Emma was not with me.

I never raised my eyes for hers so she wouldn't see the tears that threatened to spill, but when she asked where my sister was, I only had to look into her eyes and she had the answer. She burst out into hysterical tears and lunged at me for support. Candice must have heard our mother's howls and came to see what happened. She got the hint right away, just like Mom did, and she started to cry as well. He ruined our entire family, and God in Heaven above knows what he is going to do next.

The night was spent with the three of us in the living room while I recreated what had happened. Crying happened first, then memories were shared, then more crying. I am not entirely sure if you can get dehydration from crying so much, but if you can, I think the three of us got it that night. Finally, around two in the morning, we fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion, but not before we decided that the very next day, we would pack what we needed and leave.

The next morning, after waking up with tears caked on my face, the remaining members of my family took a half an hour to decide what to take with us on the road and what we were going to leave behind and have someone we hired pick them up later.

Now the car was being packed by Mom and Candice, while I was out on the dock, taking one last look at the lake. It sure was beautiful, and it was such a damn shame that there was really nothing we could do; I didn't want to be here anymore.

I heard my mother calling for me, so I turned around to run smack dab into the chest of Jason Voorhees. I pulled away from him, and nearly tumbled into the lake for the second time in two days, but this time, I didn't save myself, but Jason did instead.

When I was firm footed on the dock again, he didn't make a move to grab me again as I thought he would, but instead just stood there, like he knew I was going to leave and not come back.

There was no way to get around him safely without going into the water, and something inside of me said it wouldn't be right to not say goodbye to the man that changed my life forever. Knowing he wasn't going to say anything even if I did say goodbye, I decided to do something that no one should think of doing to the person who killed your sister. I stood up on my very tip toes and pressed my lips to the place on his mask where his mouth should be. This was my way of saying goodbye.

When I removed my lips (he had done nothing this whole time) I dropped back down on my feet and he moved aside. He wasn't stupid, he must have known what that sort of kiss meant, and for some reason that I couldn't figure out, he was letting me go. Maybe he had found someone else to play the music for him, assuming that is all he wanted.

I heard my mother again, calling for me, and this was the end.

He let me walk off the dock, and walk out of his life. The other car we had wound around the lake in the opposite way we had come months before when we had first moved here, and I caught my last glimpse of Crystal Lake, and I could have sworn I saw Jason as well, still right on my dock.

I thought for maybe just a moment that he wasn't obsessed with me or the music, he just wanted some company, or maybe not, I don't know. I think Jason was doing only what he and God knew, but I have been wrong before.


	9. Final Chapter

The Places We Called Home

Chapter 10-the final chapter

Anne left that day and never went back to Crystal Lake or Vermont for that matter. She never knew anything about Jason other than his name. She never knew his past, or about his mom. She never heard about the inattentive counselors or how they got their do. She never saw Jason's full face and she never heard about his fight with Freddy Krueger. She never even knew he was immortal.

Over time, she forgot the absolute clarity of the lake, how smooth it was when it was glazed over with ice, or how the fog rose up from it in a mystical fashion every morning in the spring and summer. Her memory dulled of how wonderful the trees smelled when walking to the camp or how the ground was so old compared to the newer, darker soil of Michigan.

But she never forgot Jason. For the rest of her life, Jason was forever the figure in the shadows, and he was the suspicious noise in the back yard at night. He terrorized her more when he wasn't around then when she was at the lake. She was one of the few who had made it out alive from him; she was one of the few he had intentionally let live.

She never forgot Emma either, but she only thought of her sister when she was just about to fall asleep which brought nightmares of meeting Jason again or a replay of her death, and when that happened, Anne would wake up crying.

There were many places that Anne would call home, from her first one in Michigan all the way over to when she moved to Scotland for three years after college, but she would never call that house on Crystal Lake one of them, because somebody else had already set his mark and doesn't like to share. Crystal Lake and its surrounding grounds belong to Jason, and as long as he is alive, it will belong to no one else.

It was kind of funny really, how people frivolously call certain things theirs, but Jason had no to frivolity about it. He owned the lake, and forever was Crystal Lake his home.

**End of the Places We Called Home**


End file.
